Harriet Jacobs - The Kansas City Repertory Theatre

THE PRODUCTION
NOTES FROM THE DIRECTOR - CONTINUED
And we here have such luxury—I can imagine and evoke
that attic poetically; I don’t have to spend seven years
there. But we are foolish if we think the pain, shame,
and confusion does not affect us as we move through
this story. It may not be Lydia’s vertigo for everyone, but
it can affect the body and the spirit as we live with it, live
next to it, let it speak through us. And I am foolish if I
think it does not affect me differently, as a white woman,
who does my job from behind a table instead of up on
the stage living it.
It can be difficult to feel the solidity
of the ground beneath us to stand
firmly in this story. Where do we
find a place of steadiness from
which to speak? And be heard by
the particular audience we will
have at each performance? For
that feeling of vertigo is not our
final destination, as it was
not Harriet’s.
Toni Morrison speaks of reluctance
in reference to her novel
Beloved: “I had this terrible
reluctance about dwelling on
[slavery]…I was overwhelmed by how long it was.
Suddenly the time -- 300 years -- began to drown me. I
[tried] to make [slavery] a personal experience. The book
[Beloved] was not about the institution -- Slavery with a
capital S. It was about these anonymous people called
slaves. What they do to keep on, how they make a life,
what they're willing to risk, however long it lasts, in order
to relate to one another -- that was incredible to
me.” Morrison, with her unquestionable genius and
clarity, goes right into the heart of real people and gives
them voices.
And we have real people here, and we must listen for
their voices. Harriet says she found her voice in that
attic. Years later, she composed Incidents in the Life of a
Slave Girl, pursued its publication through a newspaper
and three separate publishers, and then traveled widely
promoting the book and its abolitionist cause.
HARRIET JACOBS
LEARNING GUIDE | 2010
And so, Harriet’s is both the story of endurance, and the
endurance of story. From the attic emerged her voice,
and from her voice emerged her true experience, and it is
still challenging and clear. She told her readers, in North
America and in England, “If you want to be fully
convinced of the abominations of slavery, go on a
southern plantation, and call yourself a Negro trader.
Then there will be no concealment; and you will see and
hear things that will seem to you impossible among
human beings with immortal souls.”
Our task, as I see it, is to tell the
story with the clarity and energy of
Harriet Jacobs. With her humor,
with her intellect and consciousness,
the helplessness of righteous anger
and self-pity is unnecessary. She says
to us, “I need you out there to
understand exactly what this was
like, so that you can see it clearly.
And think about it.”
I believe that clear sight can save us
from the fog of vertigo.
People endure, stories endure, and
therefore they have hope of transformation. This
transformation moves me as I come to this room and this
task. We use our voices to survive the vision of the attic,
and together to cross to firmer ground from which to
speak the truth. To speak, like Harriet Jacobs did, to
those who don’t know the story, and need to hear it. To
those who aren’t willing to remember the story, and
need to hear it again. And those who think they know it,
and need to hear it afresh.
Thank you for joining Lydia and me in this process.
Kansas City Repertory Theatre: Harriet Jacobs | 13